LadyQSings

In Memorium

2011-08-10T14:02:00.002-04:00

August is a difficult month for some in my family. In as much as it comes in beautifully with the celebration of the birth of my first born (August 1), it also carries the memories of several key members of our family that we have lost over the years.

Now I know that you are supposed to concentrate on the good, and my Granny even goes so far as to say that in death, there are no more birthdays, and this is true. But it is very hard to forget the imprint that has been made on your life by certain people. So this is my memorial.

August 8: The birthday of Mrs. Dorothy Mae Cornay, or Aunt Dot as we all called her. She was only about 4'9, but her presence was massive. Her heart was huge, and her temper was catastrophic if you happened to find yourself on the wrong side of her smile...lol. But she is the reason why I still write to this day. She is also the reason why I sing, why I ever started singing, and why I continued to sing, although for sometime after her death, I couldn't find my voice...it was just gone. She is the only person that ever gave me any professional vocal training. With her years of musical experience with the greats like Rev. James Cleveland, Rev. Mattie Moss Clark, and Rev. James Moore, she groomed us. She taught us with a fire that burned from within, and she was not satisfied unless we mastered every note, every syllable, every measure. Trust me, I've had many a shoe thrown at my head for doing it wrong! LOL. She was my musical inspiration. And she was my Dear Abby when I couldn't talk to Granny or Auntie. She yelled at me, and pinched me, and loved on me like no one else could. And to this day, I miss her something terrible. I still can't think of her without tears in my eyes, a lump in my throat, and pain in my heart. But I know she's an angel now, watching over me, still thumping me in the head when I hit the wrong note. I love you T Dot, and there will NEVER be another to take your place. You continue to inspire me to seek the best, to do the best, and to BE the best. I love you.

August 10: The birthday of Mr. A.B. Searcy III. Uncle A.B. Paralyzed playing football for Cass Tech at the age of 16, he was an anomoly. Although injured from the neck down, he went on to graduate from Cass with honors, and to graduate from Wayne State with honors. Not only did he graduate, but he also pledged Kappa Alpha Psi, from his chair, and yes...they PLEDGED him!! He played basketball, football, he drove, he worked...all from his chair. He lived alone, he cooked, he cleaned, he did laundry, and he matriculated around the city...all from his chair! He was teaching me Japanese and Spanish when I was four. Algebra and Trig. Checkers and Chess. He was outstanding. And he surpassed ALL the odds. It wasn't until he had a bad fall when I was in high school that he even slightly resembled a 'quad'. He never forgot a birthday or Christmas. He paid us for report cards, and fussed if grades were not to his standards.When I had children, he spoiled them even more than he spoiled me. (Much to my dismay! lol) He cherished ALL of his nieces and nephews, and because he never had children of his own, WE were his children, and he doted on us. He loved his mother, his brothers, and he spoiled his sister (my mother) to death. He was an awesome role model, and true MAN, in its pure definition. We lost him the day before Valentines Day, and he was definitely a lover. We loved him, we adored him, and we miss him still. Our hearts were broken at the loss, and the void will never be filled. But the memories will last a lifetime. One of the last things I heard him say was that he had lived a good life, and he had no regrets. He said it with tears running down his face, and I'm so glad that I got to hear that confession. He was priceless in our family, and we will never forget him. Your smile always made me laugh, and your encouragement meant the world to me. Thank you for being the Dad that I didn't have, the Uncle that I needed, and the man that you were. I love you.

August 24: The birthday of Mr. Charles Gorman Searcy. Uncle Charles. We lost you on Valentines Day, and that makes it doubly hard sometimes.You were the quiet one. The strong, silent type. I never knew what you were thinking. As a matter of fact, I spent years thinking you didn't even like me. You were the model husband and father. Working man, honored at your job, loving husband, father of 5. Minister and Son. Brother and Friend. I remember you couldn't see very well, wore glasses, and I used to laugh on Sunday mornings because you would pull your glasses up to read the bullentin, and to me, it was the funniest thing in the world. Your smile was beautiful, your spirit was quiet, and your voice? Well, it was evident that Aunt Dot threw a few shoes at you too! Lol! Before you had your daughters, I was like your daughter. I was at your house with you and your wife so much, I think I had my own room. I still joke to this day that I was your oldest daughter, that you used me for practice. But somehow, I was still a little frightened of you, still nervous that you didn't like me. Not because you were mean to me, you never were. I think it was because I'm SO vocal, and you were SO quiet. And it was hard for me to understand that at my age. But one day, you got a call. And the details of that call greatly disturbed you. Let's just say that after that day, after I saw your reaction to that call, after I saw your face, heard your voice, I KNEW that you not only liked me, but you LOVED me. I was your beloved neice. And NOBODY had the right to hurt me or disrespect me in ANY way. My heart flooded with relief. I remember wishing that your were my father. I remember swelling with love for you, and pride that I was in your family, gratefulness that I had you to protect me. You were a SILENT WARRIOR, and far as I'm concerned that's the best kind to have on your team. I look at your daughter's today, and I see pieces of you. I see parts of you that they'll never know. And that makes me sad. But knowing that you are inside of them. Knowing that they carry your strength, your honor, your beliefs...that encourages me. Knowing that you left pieces of you behind for us to love and share helps more than you know. It got her through it. And I want you to know that your children are beautiful, talented, brilliant, spiritual and grounded, just like you would want them to be. You did good. Your memory lives on through them, and you will never be forgotten. Thank you for leaving your imprint, and thanks for finally letting me know what I needed to know. I love you.

Golden (for Malcolm) HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!

2011-07-20T08:24:00.000-04:00

(Written July 29, 2010, First Revealed July 20, 2011)

Golden like the brown of his eyes

Golden like his hand on my thighs

I breathe him…

I inhale, and exhale him.

My oxygen is filtered through the dioxide of him and without it…

I can’t live.

See, I’ve spent endless nights on one night stands,

Countless years searching for the perfect man,

The one who could see into me, become one with me, flow all up into me…

But I kept coming up empty.

Til one day I said “Lord, I’ve exhausted my search. My heart is on over exert, and I’m tired of being hurt. So can You take one second outta Your busy day, and just send a good man, a Godly man, Oh, and please make him a cute man…can You send him my way?”

And so I waited. I sat at home full of loneliness and sometimes spite, and I waited.

I turned down men night after night, yet I still waited.

Sometimes with tears in my eyes that blurred my sight, but I still waited, and waited, and waited some more.

Have you ever noticed that the sky is most clear just after a raging storm? The sun shines a little brighter after the clouds form?

He’s about 5’ll with caramel brown skin, and eyes that glow like the sunset when the light hits, and those lips? Hmmmm, Pablo couldn’t create enough paint to work with.

He is a work of art.

His heart is as big as Texas, and the warmth it exudes envelopes me, and I’ve never seen a single father exhibit such love and responsibility. His laugh is so contagious it ripples right through me. One night, he took me to Passion in Poetry, I looked over and the realization hit me: the Bible says it’s a good thing for HIM to find ME! And all of my waiting was just preparation so that I would be ready when he got to me.

Well, just over 5 months from that night of poetry, he changed me, he completed me, he found me, he married me! And now I’m anxious to go back and tell them how his touch shoots lightning through my bones. How the tip of his tongue can do no wrong. How the rock of his stroke is super strong, but how most of all to him I belong…forever.

Cuz I’m not his homie-lover-friend, or his B-U-D-D-Y. I’m not some one night stand or meaningless moment in his life: I-AM-HIS-WIFE~~~And in the Bible, it talks about the MARRIAGE BED being undefiled.

So when he wraps his rippled arms around me and looks into my eyes,

When he inhales deeply of my love and exhales a satisfied sigh,

When he trails a line of kisses down the curve of my spine,

I give thanks to the Most High!

Thanks for giving me the strength to end my search and let his begin,

Thanks for teaching me how to depend on the spirit that lives within,

Thanks for sending my angel to earth so our lives could begin,

Thanks for showing me that love really is Golden…

…like the brown of his eyes

Golden like his hands on my thighs

He breathes me.

He inhales, and exhales me.

His oxygen is filtered through the dioxide of me and without it…

He can’t live…

No Music = No Life

2011-07-11T21:25:00.001-04:00

I'm sitting here fuming. And though I can't really blog about the issue causing my anger, what struck me was how I calmed my nerves. And then I realized that the same way I calmed my nerves, was how I cleaned my house this morning. And how I soothed myself when my Granny was sick. And how I rocked myself to sleep when I went through my divorce. And how I taught my children how to spell their names, and memorize their address and telephone numbers. And how I got through every break-up when I just KNEW I'd NEVER fall in love again. In all of these situations, there is one common thread...

MUSIC!!

It is no secret that I love music and have been singing for well over 30 years. It is no secret that I come from a musically talented family on both sides. But I guess I never thought of music as therapy, although it's probably the reason why I haven't racked up any of those ridiculous psychiatry bills (like some other folk). I vividly remember as a child being very sheltered. I was raised by my Granny, and she wasn't having it, not at all. So I experienced the world through music. I learned about love from Whitney Houston, Regina Belle, and Stephanie Mills. I learned about cheating from Shirley Murdock. Sex? Well I learned about that by sneaking a NWA tape into the house and listening to it when Granny wasn't paying any attention. (Well, that was really more like learning about the 'f' word, but you get my point). Music was my window into the outer world, and today it still is. But it's also my healing waters.

When my life is falling apart I put in Donnie McClurkin and he reminds me to STAND, when I feel like I'm at the end of my rope. William Murphy helps me remember that even when things are going wrong, I still have to tell God thank you, because PRAISE IS WHAT I DO! But Smokie Norful helps me tell the Father I NEED YOU NOW, because sometimes, tomorrow is just not fast enough. And while I'm waiting, Donald Lawrence tells me that every now and again you have to ENCOURAGE YOURSELF. And when I look around, I'm feeling better, and I don't have to ask for anything else since Beverly Crawford says HE'S DONE ENOUGH!!

Then sometimes I have to deal with my relationship. 702 helps me ask can we GET IT TOGETHER? TALK TO ME like Anita Baker, so we can get to Anthony Hamilton's BETTER DAYS. Floetry said IT'S GETTING LATE, so let me CATER TO YOU with Destiny's Child. I AM READY FOR LOVE, just like India Arie, and I hope that you heard Lauryn Hill when she said that NOTHING EVEN MATTERS. You can believe Shai was right when they said we'll be TOGETHER FOREVER, that's why every time I see you, I get WEAK, like SWV. Kelly told you I'd be your MOTIVATION, and I'll have you MAKING LOVE FACES like Trey Songz. But if I have to play THE BREAK UP SONG by Marsha Ambrosius, then you'll be the BEST THING I NEVER HAD...just ask Beyonce...

And then there's Miles, Louis, Duke, Cab, Billie, Nina, Ella, Etta, Kenny...

Dana Dane, Curtis Blow, Slick Rick, Run DMC...

Atlantic Starr, The Commodores, The Chi-lites, The Whispers, Levert...

I could go on for days. There are currently close to 15000 songs on my iMac, that does not count what is on my Macbook, my PS3, or my iPhone. Nor does it count the over 400 discs in my living room held by the Discgear units.

Like writing, music soothes me. In fact, when I'm writing, I'm most often also listening to music. So to all the people who get under my skin; to all the folks who hurt me in any way; to all of the human beings who have mistreated me or trampled on my feelings; to every soul who has discounted my existence by a harsh word or deed...you should really fall on your knees and thank God for MUSIC. Because you're ALL alive today because I had that outlet. And while you're down there, thank Him for pens, pencils, paper, and computers!!

Music is my Doctor! And the Words are my Prescription!